Letters That We Never Meant to Send
by Kallasilya
Summary: Everybody knew that Leo wrote letters home while he was away on his training; but nobody knew that Raphael was writing letters back – not even Leo. Until now. Post-CGI film .
1. The Discovery

_**Summary:**_ Everybody knew that Leo wrote letters home while he was away on his training; but nobody knew that Raphael was writing letters back – not even Leo. Until now. (Post-CGI film).

**A/n:** I think I've set myself quite a challenge, here, and I just hope I can pull it off. I think this will probably go to about three chapters (so when I said 'no more multi-chapters' after SitC, I guess I lied). Feedback is very much appreciated!

* * *

_**Letters That We Never Meant to Send**_

"And even though the moment passed me by  
I still can't turn away  
Cause all the dreams you never thought you'd lose  
Got tossed along the way  
And letters that you never meant to send  
Got lost or thrown away…"

_- Name_, the Goo Goo Dolls.

**.:…:.**

He was on his way in after an early morning rooftop run when Leonardo spotted the package nestled underneath the postbox in the wall of the Lair's garage. It wasn't entirely unheard of for them to receive postal packages at their mail address; Don had installed the post slot after contemplating what would happen if any of their confidential mail was ever stolen, but larger parcels that would not fit through the slot were often left there in the alley on the step next to the garage door. As far as Leo knew, though, they hadn't been expecting to receive anything, and his cautionary instincts (he refused to think of it as paranoia) kicked in immediately.

The city was still quiet at this early hour, so he dropped down to street level for a closer look at the parcel, approaching it slowly and listening for any ominous ticking noises or other suspicious sounds.

Up close, Leo realised that it was actually a bundle of envelopes thicker than a brick, tied tightly and neatly together with a few pieces of frayed twine. Simply puzzled now more than worried, he nudged it with his toe. When nothing happened, he bent down to pick it up and examine it more closely. There was a loose piece of paper tucked under the twine on top of the bundle. Leo pulled it out and unfolded it, revealing a short printed note. Glancing around the alley again to make sure he was still unobserved, he opened the garage door and ducked inside so that he could read the note away from prying eyes.

Leaning against the cool metal of the Battleshell, he read the message under the dingy flourescent lightbulb.

_Dear Sir/Madam,_

_This mail has been held at the addressed Postal Office awaiting collection for a period of six months, after which time it is office policy that they be returned to the sender's address if such an address has been provided. The envelopes have been stamped with their receival date and have remained unopened. If you have any enquiries, please do not hesitate to contact your postal service using the details listed below._

There was a phone and fax number, and an email address. Leo stared at the note for some moments, perplexed. In the last letter he'd received from Master Splinter while he'd been training in Central America, his Sensei had regretfully come to the conclusion that his son was no longer receiving his letters, since they had gone unreplied to for so long. Leo could remember the day he read it.

'_It seems that your training has forced you to travel unexpectedly, my son, and I fear that these letters no longer reach you. Indeed, this shall be my last; now I shall seek you elsewhere, in the connection between minds and hearts. Stay safe, Leonardo. Your brothers and I await your return.'_

Leo had clutched the letter in his hand, standing there in the early morning forest light, and felt a swell of conflicting emotions. There was sadness, of course; regret that he had caused his father worry, that he would no longer receive the sporadic updates of news about his family and friends. But in equal measure there was relief, and for many of the same reasons.

Without Splinter's letters, he would no longer be able to tantalise himself with visions of his brothers and father, with longings for home. He did not deserve them, when he was failing so badly here, and they distracted him from his training. Also, if there were no more letters, he would no longer have to experience the twisting guilt that arose every time he picked up a pen to write a reply, and found himself unable to form the words. It was always difficult, anyway, scraping together an adequate disguise so that he could go in to collect his mail in relative secrecy. In that way it was a relief, knowing that he would never have to return to the tiny, run-down postal office at the edge of the small village. Once his father assumed that he had left there, it had not occurred to Leo that anyone _else _would be sending him mail.

And yet, apparently, someone had. A substantial quantity of it, too.

It was his normal ritual to sort through the mail over a cup of tea at the breakfast table, but he was burning with curiousity now. He pulled aside the piece of twine tied over the envelope on top of the bundle, and felt his eyes go wide with surprise at the sight of the address written in familiar handwriting. Unable to believe it, he quickly untied the other pieces of twine and let the full weight of the envelopes fall loosely into his hands. He sifted through them all with mounting shock. Every one of them was addressed in the same style as the first.

Leo _knew_ that handwriting.

It belonged to his brother, Raphael.

**.:…:.**

Leonardo stared at the pile of letters that spilled across his bed, watching them as if they might leap up and attack him at any moment. He'd been that close to taking them straight to Raph and demanding that his brother explain what the hell was going on, and if this was some kind of trick. Instinct told him, though, that if his brother knew these letters were in the Lair then they'd disappear before he ever got a chance to read their contents.

Because it was _Raph_. Raph didn't write letters. Hell, Raph hadn't even written Leo so much as a grocery list in all the years they'd grown up together. Leo was slightly surprised that he could recognise his own brother's handwriting, considering how rarely he'd ever seen it before. There were some things, he supposed, that you just _knew_ about your family, and handwriting was one of them.

He'd taken the letters into his room before the rest of his family had laid eyes on them, and now he was steeling himself for whatever they might contain. He sat on the edge of the bed and gathered them all up in his hands again, sifting through them and examining the postmarks. The first was dated just a couple of weeks after the last of Splinter's letters, and the final one roughly a month before he'd returned to New York. Almost a year's worth in total, he calculated. And he'd never even known the letters were there. Why hadn't Raph _said_ anything, after he'd returned home?

Leo recognised that he was just stalling, now; the only place he possibly might find the answers to his questions was in the letters themselves. He took the first one off the pile, carefully slit the envelope open, and removed the contents. It was just a single sheaf of paper, about two-thirds covered with Raph's scrawl. His brother's handwriting was messy, but large, and relatively easy to read – all sharp angles and blotches where he'd pressed the pen too fiercely to the paper.

_Hey Leo_, it began without preamble,

_Splinter says you ain't returning his letters any more, so he reckons you've gone running off somewhere for more 'training'. I reckon that maybe you just think you're too busy and important to bother reading letters from your own damn family any more. Well, whatever. You'll probably never read this, at least, so I won't have to hear your smug comments about it. Works for both of us. But you ain't the one who has to see Mike's face every time he goes to collect the mail and there's nothing there, so ya might wanna think about that._

_Personally I don't care if you wanna go all silent and we don't get another word out of ya until you get home. But for the others' sakes at least, you know… you coulda given them a bit of warning, instead've just disappearing off the face of the earth like that._

_Pick up a damn phone and call once in a while, asshole._

_Raph._

Definitely Raphael, Leo decided as he finished. He could recognise the tone of it easily.

The date on the second letter suggested quite a gap, as if Raph had actually waited for a reply that had never come. This one was slightly longer, and Raph's writing spilled across the page as if he hadn't been able to hold it back.

_Yo Leo,_

_Fine. I shoulda known that you wouldn't bother responding to that stupid letter I sent. If ya even read it at all, which ya probably didn't. I might as well've just folded it up into a paper airplane and thrown it off the top of a skyscraper, for all the good it's done. Would've had just as much of a chance of reaching you that way, probably._

_I get it, though. You don't hafta explain it to me. I know your training period's officially over and you're meant to be back home already, yadda yadda. But if I were you I wouldn't wanna come back home either. It's a big wide world out there, right? Why would you wanna come back here, when you've got all of that to explore?_

_Not like there's anyone here worth coming back __for__._

_Shit. You've got no idea how close I was to scribbling that all out. Or scrunching this up and setting it on fire, maybe. This is so goddamn stupid. But it's not like it matters, if you ain't ever gonna read it anyway. I could say whatever the hell I wanted here, and you'd never even know. I could write down every single insult I could think of to throw at ya. Or I could write what I really think, I guess. Yeah, I could do that. First time for everything, right? No one has to know. It doesn't friggin matter, anyway._

_Fuck it._

_Leo, I want ya to come home._

_There, I said it. So do whatever the hell you want. Laugh at me, for all I care. Just come __home__ and laugh at me, already._

_R._

Leo held the letter tightly in both hands, feeling the months-old misery that hung heavy in the weight of its words, drowning out even the anger. It would have been better if Raph had just been purely angry. Leo knew that if he'd read this letter while he was away, he would have been heading for home in the next heartbeat. The need in it was unmistakable. What it must have cost Raph to put it into words…

Leo remembered Raph as he had been when he returned; the sullen anger and resentment, the depth of the unexpected antagonism. Of course, he hadn't been expecting an overwhelming display of happiness from Raph when he'd got back – that would never have been his style – but the cold welcome he'd received had taken him by surprise, and he had even been a little hurt by it. He hadn't understood, back then. He understood a little better now, and he had a feeling that these letters would go a long way towards explaining even more.

Raph wouldn't be comfortable with him finally reading them so long after the fact, if he knew. _But they're addressed to me, damnit_, thought Leo, _and things would probably have been a whole lot easier if I'd read them months ago._

He sent a silent apology to his brother, opened up the next letter, and began to read.


	2. The Letters

_**A/n: **_Okay, so it took me a while to piece this chapter together. I do hope that I managed to keep it all reasonably in-character. Oh, and **obligatory warning for Raph's pottymouth** here.

Before we proceed I'd like to snag this opportunity to thank everyone who voted in the 2008 fanfic awards, as well as Pi and the wonderful organisers of the competition. Congrats to the winners! :D

Now, if you recall where we last left off, Leo had just sat down to read through the rest of Raph's letters…

* * *

_**Chapter 2 – The Letters.**_

"There's nothing sadder to me than associations held together by nothing but the glue of postage stamps.  
If you can't see or hear or touch a man, it's best to let him go."

– _East of Eden_, John Steinbeck.

**.:…:.  
**

Hey Leo,

You know, this is kinda therapeutic. Hah, bet ya didn't even know I knew that word, did ya? There's a lotta things you got no clue about, and you're missing a lot that's going on over here. So I'm gonna tell ya.

Sorry I was so pissy in the last letter. You know, the one you haven't read. Ha, ha. God, I must be desperate to actually bother to do this. Ah well. Maybe if I just put stuff down in words it'll have this funky psychic effect and transmit to your brain somehow? I bet Master Splinter could pull something like that off, actually. But there's no way I'd tell him that I'm writing to ya. He probably wouldn't believe me, and if he did, then he'd probably think I was just sending you abuse. I guess he'd be right, for the most part. As always. Damnit.

Sometimes I think Splinter doesn't like me very much. I think when he looks at me he sees all the ways I'm not like you, and there are a lot of them. You probably think that's too dramatic.

I remember when we weren't so different, though. Mikey used to call us twins, remember? Seems crazy now.

But it was always kinda that way. Don and Mikey are such goobs, they deserve each other. Always made a pretty good team. All those weird in-jokes and stuff. And then there was you and me. Even when we were tearing each other's throats out, it was always you 'n me, and Don and Mike. And right at the moment, Leo, with you gone, I am so third-wheeled, I'm not even kidding ya. What am I sposed to do, spend my life playing Scrabble with Splinter? (Hell no – he'd kick my ass, we both know that). At least Casey's still around.

He and April moved into a new apartment, ya know. See, this is what I mean about you missing things. Nothing huge, just little, dumb things. They add up after a while. I'll try and keep track of them for ya, keep a record, ok? Maybe I'll get those funky mind tricks working for me after all, and somehow, you'll just know.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Hey Leo,

Is it just me or is the criminal population of this city getting dumber as the years go by? I swear to god, it wouldn't even be a challenge any more, except they seem to be making up for lack of skill in sheer numbers. I reckon it's cause we haven't been around as much, actually. I've been trying to fix that recently, even though I know you'd never 'approve' of me going solo. To be honest, that might be half the reason why I'm doing it. But I see it all the time, and I can't just let the city fall apart like this. Even if I'm the only one who cares any more.

Mike and Don couldn't give a shit, that's for sure. Mike's gone into the party business. It's lucky he's completely shameless, cause he didn't have any dignity left after the first week. I didn't even ask him where he got the giant turtle head from. Didn't wanna know. Geez.

Don's job is just as bad. I don't get why he'd wanna do the tech support thing when he was always so irritated when it came to us breaking things, or not being able to figure them out. I may not get exactly what he's talking about, but I've overheard him on his business calls and he's always sounded just about ready to rip the cord out and strangle himself with it.

I asked him why he does it, and he just gave me that patronising sigh of his and said: "Because it has to be done."

Well screw that right to hell. I don't get why we gotta resign ourselves. I won't. Call me a hopeless idealist or whatever you like, I don't care, but there's gotta be something more than THIS.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Yo Leo,

If you were here right now you would definitely kill me. I just had a massive argument with Sensei. Some of the things I said… well, it was pretty much as far away from 'respectful' as I could get. I just cracked, I guess. I don't even wanna write about what happened, now. But it did not go down well. I said your name out loud, too, which is a big no-no around here lately. It's like dropping a bomb. Bet you'd love that, wouldn't ya.

So I'm out again. Writing on the rooftops, ha ha. Couldn't stay in the lair after that. Lucky New York has enough light pollution for me to see the paper by. Maybe that's your problem, huh? Jungle's too dark, or something. If you're even in the jungle by now. You could be anywhere in the world, and we'd have no clue. Imagine how you would feel if it was any of us in your position. I bet you're popping some blood vessels just thinking it. You practically have kittens every time I walk down the street without my shell cell on me. Seems just a little unfair, doncha think?

I guess I'll have to go home eventually. Nowhere else to go, really. And I'm freezing my ass off. I hope wherever you are, it's not as cold as it is here.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Hey Leo,

What are you doing out there? Seriously. I get that the world's a big place and all, but what the hell? We don't give a shit if you've 'finished' your training. I don't think even Sensei cares about that any more, at this point. He just wants you back. He wants his perfect son back. He won't say it out loud, but you can see it in his face. You don't need words to read that. I guess words really are overrated, after all. I been throwing them at ya for months now, and look how far it's got me. Absolutely freaking nowhere, that's where.

I can't believe I once thought that you'd actually be PROUD of me for doing this, what with all your 'opening up' and 'expressing yourself' and all your goddamn new age BULLSHIT, you fucking hypocrite. I HATE YOU. THIS IS SUCH A FUCKING JOKE.

Uh. I just kinda lost it and stabbed the paper with my sai. Sorry. Now there's a hole ripped in it. Goddamn it all to hell. I hate this drained feeling after I get really, really mad like that. Man. Even when you're on a different continent, you still manage to tick me off. Dunno why I'm surprised, actually. You probably do it on purpose, somehow. Psychic irritation.

Whatever. I don't have the energy for this right now.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Leo,

I know you're still out there somewhere. Or maybe I'm just trying to convince myself. Master Splinter would sense it, if something had happened to ya, and he says you're fine. I'm kinda jealous. It'd be nice to know for sure, for myself, instead of just taking his word for it.

I dunno about Don and Mike, but I hardly see Sensei these days. We never did keep very compatible sleeping patterns. And when he does see me, he's always looking disappointed, so it ain't really a huge shock that I've kinda been avoiding him lately. I'm starting to get the same look from Don, too. I'll just avoid him as well, I guess. Him and Mike are always working anyway. He keeps going on about the fact that I don't contribute, I'm a waste of space, blah blah blah. Don't tell him, but I guess it kinda stings because I know he's right. I am useless around here. But what am I meant ta do? I'm not good at anything, you know that. There's no point in me even being here.

... I'll tell you something, Leo. No one else knows this yet, and I plan on keeping it that way.

I almost left the other day. I was gonna come find ya, somehow. Whether to drag your sorry ass back home or just to be anywhere other than here, I dunno. I got pretty far, too. I packed some stuff. Didn't leave a note or anything, cause I suck at goodbyes. I figured I'd contact home once I'd already gone, and it'd be easier that way, cause then no one could try and talk me out of it.

So I left.

I only got halfway across the city before I heard a window being smashed, and cop sirens starting up too far away to do anything about it. Once I'd dealt with the few thugs trying to get into the electronics store, I went back up to the roof where I'd left my bag and I just… I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave this place. Not even for Don and Mikey's sake, not even if they'd be happier if I went. This city's in my blood. Kinda literally, too, with the amount of times I've had the pavement scraped into my skin.

So I went back home and I unpacked everything again while everyone was still asleep. No one even knew I'd tried to leave. I'm stuck here now, but it doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel like home like it used to. I don't belong here any more.

Yesterday, though, Mike somehow convinced me to play Mario Kart with him – when I said yes, he gave me the hugest goofy smile, as if he'd just won the lottery or something, and I felt so fucking undeserving that I almost ditched him then and there. But it was the first time I'd seen him smile – hell, the first time I'd seen him at all – in ages. And I thought, what if I'd really left that night? What if I'd gone through with it?

One of us has gotta be the brother that stays, Leo. It's weird. I never thought that it'd be me.

I still wanna go after you. But I guess that's gonna have to wait. I bet you're so caught up in your head right now, wherever you are, ya don't even realise the time's passing.

It's going by really slow in this part of the world, I can tell ya.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Hey Leo,

Today was really… not so bad. I think it might've even been good. I mean, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Nothing that would've been worth commenting on in the old days. Just an evening session of ninja tag, a nineties movie marathon, and take-away pizza. I needed that so much. I think it was all Mikey's doing. Somehow he managed to get Don to relax and get me in a good mood without going too overboard with his dumb jokes and pranks. He's actually pretty good at that when he puts his mind to it. I figure you'd be proud of how he's managed these last few months. Better than me, that's for sure, though that ain't saying much.

I'm gonna try not to think about that right now, though. Don't wanna lose this feeling. It's too rare. For once, thinking of ya didn't make me angry, just… sad that you were missing it.

God, I can't believe ya got me admitting to this crap! Guess it's really true that you're capable of writing down stuff you'd never be able to say out loud. It's really weird. Almost like I can't help myself, even though I know no one's reading this but me. The idea of you's there, and stuff just spills out.

I only send them outta habit, you know. It wouldn't make much difference to me if I just kept them locked away somewhere. I think it's just the writing part that's important. I woulda gone insane so damn fast without this. If Mike ever asks, though, I'll tell him I've been letting off steam by lifting weights. Hah. Can't have him knowing, he'd think it was hilarious. Probably say something about love letters, and then I'd really hafta kick his ass. (He's grown up recently, but not that much).

I dunno what Don would think, if he knew what I was doing. He'd probably just be baffled. I'm such a stereotype to him, these days, though I don't exactly encourage a broader viewpoint. He'd probably just act surprised that a 'caveman' like me knows how to hold a pen. Always was a bit of a snob when it came to reading and writing. God, do you remember when we first had lessons? He was such a little shit, back then.

Back then? What am I talking about?

Nah, even thinking of that can't get me mad right now. It's such a relief, I tell ya. Being stuck in the same mood 24/7, it gets damn tiring after a while. But then you get trapped in the pattern of it, and ya can't really stop.

Except for when there's pizza and movies, apparently. Forget traditional herbal teas, bro, the answer's right here.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Hey Leo,

Guess what?

I killed a man today.

I didn't mean to. Didn't want to. But he pulled a gun on the girl he was trying to drag down the alley, waving it around, and I didn't have any choice. I don't think my sai can fly faster than bullets. It flew fast enough, though. Got him in the neck. The girl just lost it and started screaming. For a minute there I felt like joining her. But I came home like I always do, eventually, and I locked the door and washed the blood off in the bathroom sink, and as the last of it trickled away I caught myself thinking… I wish Leo was here.

And how sick is that? To only want ya around at times like those?

I know ya, though. I know you'd understand. It doesn't get any easier. All these years, and it doesn't get any goddamn easier.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Hey Leo,

I've figured out why you need to come back. It's because I'm a complete and utter asshole. 'Well, duh,' I can see you saying to yourself. 'Why do you think I left in the first place?'

Sorry. I'm giving myself too much credit there. I know I wasn't the reason you left. And telling you I'm an asshole doesn't really encourage you to come back, either.

Honestly though, bro. When you're around I can get mad and bounce back off you. We're balanced. But Donnie. When I talk to Donnie these days I'm just the cruellest, ugliest, meanest little bastard that ever walked the earth. Don doesn't deserve that. You know how he is. But I just lose it sometimes, and say things I don't really mean, and Donnie just takes it and takes it, and goes all quiet, and as soon as I leave the room, thinking of that look in his eyes just kills me, but by then it's too late to go back. And I don't know how to fix it.

So I need you to come back, Leo, cause if you don't then Don and Mikey are going to end up hating me as much as I deserve to be hated. And I know it sounds absolutely fucking pathetic, but I just can't handle that.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Hey Leo,

Right now I'm trying to think of something to bribe ya with, and realising – I've got absolutely nothing to offer. I wouldn't come back for me either, if it was my choice.

But you're supposed to be better than that – better than me. Everything I touch turns to shit lately. At least I haven't screwed up my bike yet, but it's probably only a matter of time. It'll spontaneously explode when I drive over a pothole, knowing my luck.

Do you believe in luck, Leo? You'd probably say that 'luck' was just me making excuses for myself. Well, what's your excuse, huh? It better be a good one. I wanna hear it, if ya ever decide to grace us with your almighty presence again. I'll be all ears, I promise ya. And then you'd better spill. Every single word, every single second that you shoulda been here instead of wherever the hell you are. You've gotta account for all of it.

Not for me – for the others. For some crazy reason they all seem to miss ya when you're gone. You can make your excuses to them.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Leo,

I made a decision today, and I'm gonna follow it to the end. I'm my own boss now. I'm not gonna take orders from anyone any more. This is something that I have to do. It's the only thing I can do. Thank god the bike still works. I can't breathe underground any more. This is the only thing I got left, and I ain't giving that up.

I wanna tell you, I'm so close to telling you, but I can't. It don't matter, cause I already know what you'd say, and I don't care.

_- R._

**.:…:.**

Leo,

I can't keep doing this. It's only stubborness that keeps me sticking these things in envelopes, anyway. Bull-headedness, you would probably say. At least, the old you would've. I've got no idea what you're like now. A year's a long time, in case you haven't noticed. A lot can happen. A lot can change. A lot can fall apart, in my experience. I can't help wondering what it's done to you, this year.

Must be weird for ya. I mean, before this, the four of us shared pretty much everything. And now, when or if ya ever come back, there'll be this whole year of stuff between us that's different. The longer you leave it though, the more stuff there's gonna be, so hurry it up already. I'm damn sick of writing to ya. I wouldn't even mind hearing your smarmy remarks. At least it would be some sorta response.

Ah, who am I kidding. Ya probably don't even remember our postal address any more, fer crying out loud. You sure as hell don't remember the phone number. This whole training thing was just the alibi you needed, right? The perfect excuse to leave behind all the things that were holding you back, all the people that weren't good enough.

Whatever. We don't need you, anyway. I don't care if you never come back.

_- R._

(Raphael. Me. Yeah, that's right, the big green turtle in the red mask. Remember me? I used to be your brother, once. And I ain't stopped just cause you've forgotten I exist, or whatever. If I don't get to choose this then neither do you, damnit).

**.:…:.**

Leo,

This is it, then. One year to the day since you were meant to be home. No one said anything today. They didn't need to.

Today for the very first time, I really began to believe it. You're not coming back. I don't know whether it's cause something happened to ya, you got yourself in some sorta trouble, or if you just run out on us cause you couldn't bear the thought of coming home. Honestly, I don't know which reason is worse. I can't stand the thought of either of them.

You could be dead, Leo. And now that I've let myself think it I can't get it outta my head. So this will be the last thing I ever write to ya. It was enough of a joke when I knew you just weren't reading these things, but I won't write to a dead person. Or even a maybe-dead person. I can't. It just doesn't feel right.

Suddenly it's just ink on paper. Such a stupid pointless fucking waste. That's all this whole deal has been. A waste of ink and a waste of time.

_- Raph._

**.:…:.**


	3. The Promise

_**A/n:**_ Yes, it's the last chapter of Letters! I've had bits of this chapter written since last _year_ sometime, so it certainly feels great to finally get it out there.

As always, concrit and reviews in general are much appreciated and valued as inspiration!

* * *

**Chapter 3 – The Promise**

**.**

"I have a brother when I'm a brother in need.  
I spend my whole time running,  
He spends his running after me."

- _The First Time_, U2.

**.:…:.**

Leonardo let the last letter fall from his hands to the bed, where it rested on top of the pile of all the others. Raph's last words echoed in his mind. _A waste of ink and a waste of time_.

He felt curiously humbled. He'd seen something of his brother that he'd never seen before. He almost felt like he'd read Raph's personal diary rather than letters that were addressed to himself. All the things that Raph could never say out loud: here they were, laid out on paper before him. It was as if something precious and breakable had been placed directly into his two fumbling hands. He felt closer to Raph than he had in years.

But what would Raph think about that? Would he want Leo to go digging up all of this stuff again, when they'd been getting on so well recently? Of course he wouldn't, Leo knew that. But he also knew that you couldn't just shove these things under the rug (like Mikey would do when he was meant to be cleaning the lounge) and hope that one day they'd disappear completely. They needed a proper burial. He would talk to Raph, and just keep his fingers crossed that the whole thing wouldn't blow up spectacularly in his face.

This 'fingers crossed' approach was one that he often resorted to when it came to Raph. It didn't always work, of course, but Leo couldn't see that he had any other options.

Carefully, methodically, he refolded the letters one by one, placing them back into their envelopes. He was realising once again that sometimes, the act of making yourself vulnerable is really an act of strength.

**.:…:.**

Leo took a deliberate deep breath, tapped his knuckles against the door, and then pushed it open cautiously at the grunt of assent from inside.

Raph was tipped back in his chair, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle, reading a motorcycling magazine. It occurred to Leo that Raph was the only one of them who didn't have a desk in his room, and he wondered where most of the letters that were currently clutched in his hand had been written.

"Hey."

Raph glanced up and seemed surprised to see who it was. "Hey Leo, what's up?" he looked at him enquiringly.

… _Do I really never go in here except when I want something?_ Leo felt a momentary pang, and then shrugged it off and steeled himself. He lifted the letters slowly to display them, coming fully into the room and closing the door behind himself. "I found these on the front step this morning."

Leo saw the moment Raph recognised them, when his expression changed from mild puzzlement to a contained panic. He leaned forward in his chair, his eyes never leaving the bundle of letters in Leo's hand. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"There was a note with them," Leo tried to ease them out of the sudden silence. "They were returned by the post office in Central America. I never even knew they were there." He was hoping that sounded more like an apology than an excuse.

Raphael finally managed to contain his impression of a rabbit caught in headlights just long enough to get his eyes to latch onto Leo's face. "Didja read them?" He looked scared to hear the answer.

"… I read them."

If Raph was a real turtle at that moment, it was clear that he would have been trying to pull all of his limbs inside of his shell in an effort to disappear from view. "Crap," he breathed, covering his face with his hands.

"No, not 'crap'." Leo tried to keep his voice steady and reasonable.

"_Very_ crap," Raph confirmed in a muffled voice, still hiding behind his hands. Leo gave a soft sigh and went to sit sideways on Raph's hammock, tilting his head back to lean against the wall.

"Why didn't you ever say anything… why didn't you ask me about them when I first got home?"

Raph managed to drag his hands away from his face, but he wouldn't even look in his brother's direction. "To save myself the feeling of absolute goddamn _mortification_, Leo, geez, what do ya _think_?" He sunk further down in his chair, his face a thundercloud. "This is fuckin' embarrassin'. Ya weren't sposed ta actually _read_ them."

"I think you wanted me to," Leo said quietly, and Raph went still.

"Raph."

His brother's eyes flickered.

"I'm so sorry. If – if I had known – "

"Forget it," grunted Raph, not unkindly. "S'all in the past now anyway. We got beyond all that crap, right?" And his gaze lifted again to Leo's face, almost hopeful.

Leo's mouth tugged itself into a genuine smile. "Yeah, we did. But… there's a lot of stuff in here." He hefted the letters again. "Stuff we should probably talk about."

And to think, if the postmaster in the tiny Central American office hadn't been bothered or thoughtful enough to send them back, then he would never have even known.

"Do we hafta talk about it? I hate talking. Not _talking _about it was kinda the whole _point_."

"You were going to come after me," Leo murmured, half to himself.

There were a few thoughtful seconds of silence, where it became clear that Raph wasn't going to try anything so silly as denying it. Leo held the written proof in his hands, after all.

And what else was Leo supposed to say about that? Sure, he would have done the same, if it had been Raph who'd been gone for so long without word. But to know that his brother would have tracked him across the world, would have left behind every single thing he had ever known, with no idea where or how to start searching for him… and Raph must have known that it would have been hopeless, a lost cause, an impossible task.

And he would have done it anyway.

In retrospect, it was the most obvious thing for Raph to do. He was never one to be bothered by phenomenal odds. They served only to make him more determined. And yet he'd made the more difficult decision, for him, and stayed. Leo was relieved that he had.

"Are you angry?" he asked eventually, figuring it would be best to draw it out early on.

"I guess not." Raph looked surprised at his own answer. "Honestly… I think I'm kinda over being mad at you. It doesn't usually end well." A shadow crossed his face, and Leo could tell that he was thinking about that night before Winters Corp., and what had almost happened in the heat of the moment.

"Well." Leo looked down at the letters again, not liking to see that dark expression on his brother's face. "These are pretty personal things. I thought maybe you wouldn't like the idea of me reading them."

"Maybe 'like' is a strong word," Raph said wryly, giving himself a bit of a shake. "But they've got yer name on them, don't they? It's just weird. I don't think I even remember half the shit I wrote." He frowned again. "I just remember that most of it was stupid and embarrassing."

"It's not stupid to want to say how you feel." This earned Leo a snort of derogatory amusement from Raph, which seemed to restore their status quo somewhat and make them both more comfortable.

"Yeah, whatever, Oprah."

"Oh, shut up." Leo hmphed. "You know it's true. You really need to let these things out more often."

"Piss off," snorted Raph uncomfortably. "It was hard enough writing that stuff down, let alone sayin' it out loud. The only way I managed was by convincin' myself you weren't ever gonna read it anyway. And look how well _that_ turned out."

"You know me," Leo smirked, "always messing with your plans."

"Yeah, you sure got that right."

"So that's one thing that hasn't changed. But it sounds like I did miss a lot while I was away."

"Uh huh. Wait, you're not gonna try apologising _again_, are ya? I mean, it's gettin' kinda repetitive."

"Okay, okay. On one condition, though."

Raph looked at him expectantly.

Leo took a breath, and did the thing where he mentally crossed his fingers. "Fill me in?"

So Raph did.

**.:…:.**

There were a few stops and starts and awkward moments in their conversation, but on the whole they talked more freely than they had in years. Raph told him about the little moments and the big ones, the ugly times and the times that made up for it. He was always a hard one to get talking, but once you did it came pouring out in a sort of inevitable rush. He even talked about how the Nightwatcher thing started, though Leo got the distinct impression that he left out a lot of the more stupid and death-defying stunts that he got up to on that bike.

Leo was all for openness, but he let those things go. There were some aspects of his younger brother's life that he probably just didn't want to know about. They wouldn't be good for his blood pressure.

At some point they'd both ended up sitting sideways on the hammock, leaning back against the wall with their legs dangling over the edge. They'd started out trying to give each other some space, but through the tilt of the fabric they ended up sliding towards the centre and sitting so close that their legs and shoulders were almost touching.

It was at that point that Leo realised, to his pleasant surprise, that he had not felt this comfortable in a very long time.

After stories that had grown increasingly outrageous and unlikely (almost, but not quite, worthy of Mikey's tall tales), Raph finally seemed to have run out of steam, and they sat together in a contented silence for a while until something new seemed to occur to him.

"That makes it your turn now, bro. So tell me about it – the stuff you saw."

"I'm sure you don't want to hear my boring travel stories, Raph."

"Sure I do."

"There's nothing great to tell. Greedy people doing ugly things. Poverty. Murder…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know about all that. But there must have been good stuff, too." Raph almost sounded wistful.

"… I don't want to seem like I'm rubbing it in your face, or –" He faltered to a stop at the exasperated surprise he saw in Raph's expression.

"Is _that_ why you never talk about your time away? 'Cause you think we'll all just be jealous, or somethin'…? Jesus, Leo!" He ground his forehead into his palm.

"What?" asked Leo, feeling a bit lost.

"We all thought you were just keepin' your adventures to yerself because… well, cause you thought you were too good for us." Now Raph sounded a bit sheepish. Leo just looked at him in bewilderment.

"Come on!" Raph gesticulated a bit wildly. "You come home after being gone so long and don't say a word about where you've been or what you've been up to, what are we supposed ta think? You've been to all these places, seen all this stuff we've never even heard about, and we've just been sitting here at home looking at the same old city as always. Why would you have anythin' to say to _us_?"

"I just… didn't want to make you guys feel bad," Leo muttered, feeling stupider by the moment.

"So you're sayin' the whole silence thing was just a way to spare our _feelings_?"

They stared at each other mutely for a few seconds.

Leo couldn't help it. He began to laugh.

"It's not fuckin' funny," Raph grumbled, starting to look supremely pissed off.

"Sorry," he tried to compose himself, choking back his sniggers. "It's just… well… talk about your classic communication breakdown."

"And you say _I'm _bad." Raph grunted, and then heaved a long-suffering sigh. "So now we've got that crap sorted out. No more excuses. Spill."

"Well, okay…" Leo's expression went distant as he tried to figure out where to begin, knowing that he couldn't possibly cover it all in one conversation. "The rainforest was beautiful, I guess. There was… this tree that I'd climb, every morning, and the sunrise over the canopy of the valley was just… and there were birds in the most amazing colours, and all kinds of weird animals. Everything was so different there. The people, the food… The water tasted different. The _air_ tasted different."

The wistful look on Raph's face was intensifying, so Leo finished: "And I was lonely as all hell. I _missed_ you guys."

"Heh. Don't tell no one, but I'd prob'ly go a little crazy without Don and Mike around, too."

Leo rolled his eyes. "I missed _all_ of you," he said pointedly.

Raph dropped his gaze and didn't say anything for a bit, but he looked kind of pleased.

"… Yeah. Still. Can't imagine what it would have been like, seeing all that stuff."

Leo spoke before he was even conscious of having made a decision, but he immediately felt the rightness of his words. "We'll go there, one day. All of us. Together."

"… Ya mean that?" Raph peered at him suspiciously, and the expression on his face was just so _Raph_-like – hoping, and at the same time trying not to hope – that Leo couldn't stop himself from slinging an arm around his brother's shoulders.

"It's a promise," he said.

**.:…:.**

**The End.**


End file.
